The Emerald City
by tinuvielb
Summary: Coffee, spaceships, sk8trbois, and still more coffee: it’s the Emerald City. Sadly, no chance for a decent cuppa tea. Rose, Alt.Eight, and others. Doomsday Dimensions Series.
1. Shroedinger's Kiss

**Chapter One: Shroedinger's Kiss**

"Burn bright, die young, end it all spectacularly--that's the price of greatness."

Rose was standing in the console room, gazing up at the TARDIS ceiling. The Doctor had switched on the holographic projector, making it appear to be open to space. All around were stars; and directly overhead flickered the undulating colours of a vast nebula.

"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."

They had been following a linear timeline. Rather than dematerialise into the Time Vortex at one set of space-time coordinates and rematerialise at another, they remained at a relative point in normal space, sliding along time's arrow at great speed. The reason? To prove that the future exists. The end of Time was their hoped-for destination, a crossing-over point between parallel universes, where Rose might once again be able to meet a man also called the Doctor, another Doctor, _her_ Doctor, the man she had once promised to stay with forever. But to do this, she would have to give up everything: home, family, friends. Once she had made this decision quickly and without regret. But now, there was a complicating factor.

That complicating factor was, at the moment, standing behind her. He was an elegantly incongruous figure, in a green velvet frock coat, grey silk cravat and brocaded waistcoat. Framed by long, brown ringlets, his face appeared young, although he measured his age in centuries. He was pointing up at a bright spot in the middle of the ceiling. "Eta Carinae, the largest star in the universe--and most unstable. That's why it's surrounded by so much luminous gas and dust--it keeps violently throwing off bits of itself." He glanced at his pocket watch. "Should be quite the show. We've got a few minutes left 'till supernova, by my reckoning."

Rose stole a glance at the Doctor's face, the star reflecting in his eyes. The dim, ethereal light reminded her of Shada, where the Doctor died--or so she believed at the time. She hadn't really started to care about him until she thought she had lost him. The prospect of losing him again loomed large--and, this time, it would be by her own choice.

A part of her hoped she wouldn't have to choose. Perhaps her Doctor wouldn't appear. Perhaps he had found someone else--that thought clutched and tore at her heart. No, she wouldn't think about that possibility. Perhaps--perhaps the future in this universe hadn't been restored. Then she wouldn't be able to meet her Doctor; and she wouldn't have to leave this one. Yes, that would be the best possible outcome--and, she realised guiltily, also the worst. It would be devastating for her Doctor--no, wait, devastating for _this_ Doctor. She'd mixed the Doctors up.

"You're very quiet," said the Doctor. "Don't you like it? I suppose it is a bit of a let-down after that strange star--"

"No, no, it's lovely," Rose said quickly. They had been observing various stellar phenomena as a sideline to their timeslide. He'd shown her a strange matter star, explaining it as something between a neutron star and a black hole. Evidently the gravitational pressure was so great that the neutrons deep within the star had broken apart into quarks. Quarks come in various "flavours" including one called "strange." Hence--strange matter. It had been rotating quickly, sending powerful streams of radiation at them. Somehow this set all the teacups rattling in the TARDIS, so they didn't stay long.

"Unfortunately, we're travelling forwards so fast that the only things we can really appreciate are astronomical events. But I assure you--the view will get much more exciting soon."

"It's fine, really..." Rose had a sudden idea. "Say--can you do it to the floor, too? What you did to the ceiling? Make it seem transparent, open to space?"

"Oh! Yes, not a problem." The floor faded. Stars surrounded them. Rose felt as if she were floating in space--which gave her another idea.

"Doctor, could you do something else for me? Can you adjust the gravity? I mean, it's artificial, right? We're in space, there shouldn't be any gravity, we should be floating."

"Don't be silly. Zero-G is a terrible bother. Anyway, the supernova--"

"I've never felt it. I want to! Please, just this once."

"Five minutes," said the Doctor, glancing again at his pocket watch. "Five minutes only." He set several dials, flipped a switch, and rapped the console with his fist. "There you have it. Zero-G. The most important thing to remember is Newton's First Law--a body in motion tends to remain in motion. The _second_ most important thing to remember is that the sick bags are located underneath the console. Weightlessness often has unfortunate effects on the human inner ear. "

Rose felt her weight evaporate. Eagerly, she jumped into the air. "Look at this, I'm floating, I'm floating, this is fantastic, this is--OOF!"

"As I believe I mentioned not a few seconds ago," said the Doctor, wincing as Rose hit the ceiling and bounced off, "a body in motion remains in motion--until it comes in contact with something of greater mass. You must move slowly, _carefully_. That's why it's such a bother."

"No, it's brilliant." Rose had managed to stop her motion by grabbing onto one of the console scaffoldings. Now she was floating near the ceiling, bathed in the glow of the nebula. "Come up, it's fun."

"Oh...all right," said the Doctor. "I've been wanting a few books off the top shelf, anyway." He pushed off with his toes, and drifted up near her.

Rose was trying to get her hair out of the way so she could see; but it kept floating in front of her eyes. "That's the other hazard of Zero-G," chuckled the Doctor. "Bad hair."

"That's rich, coming from you," said Rose. His long ringlets were floating spherically about his head, making him look like a deranged clown. She turned and pointed at him; but the motion set her body spinning. She flailed out and grabbed at his hand to steady herself. Both of them spun now, slowly orbiting one another.

"Conservation of angular momentum," said the Doctor. "Velocity is inversely proportional to the rotational radius." He bent his arm, bringing her closer in. They spun a little faster. "You see?"

Impulsively, Rose leaned forward and kissed him.

He stiffened in surprise; but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. They revolved more quickly. She flicked her tongue across his lips--they parted. She kissed him deeply, entwining her body around his. Soon she felt his arms around her as well.

He tasted like honey, golden honey. And--something else. It took her a moment to recognise it, but...she could feel the vortex energy, through his connection with the TARDIS. Her own experience with the heart of the TARDIS was no more than a shadowy memory, and yet feeling it again was intoxicating. She kissed him harder, hungry for it, trying to draw it out of him. Soon she felt the energy crackling through her veins. It began to overpower her; to tear her apart. She felt it might destroy her, but still she wanted more. The excruciating agony of it spiraled up ever higher and higher until--

Everything went gold. She felt herself fade away.

"Rose? Are you all right? Rose?"

Rose was gone, mere dust in the void; simultaneously, she opened her eyes. Something was pressing against the soles of her feet, pulling her down. Her knees buckled. An arm was around her, supporting her, holding her close. Disorientated, she gasped, "Doctor? What...what happened?"

"We were talking. You asked if I could make the floor transparent, and then you went all...glassy-eyed."

Rose pressed her lips together, trying to taste him, trying to feel the Vortex energy. "I...I...don't know." She was trembling.

He studied her, his expression more curious than alarmed. "Tell me what you experienced just now. Do you remember anything at all?"

She looked up into his eyes; the urge to kiss him was just as great as before. But...was it him or the Vortex energy she craved now? She didn't know. She swallowed hard; and recalled that, just before she felt herself fade, his arms had gone limp and slipped away from her. Too much Vortex energy was lethal to Time Lords, she knew. Had she killed him too?

Rose felt afraid. She turned away, out of his embrace, avoiding his gaze. "I remember…I asked you to turn the gravity off. We were floating..."

"Zero-G? That would be daft, seeing as how there's going to be a rather large bang here in a minute or two. No, I suspect you had a microsleep attack with a REM intrusion. It's a symptom of circadian clock disruption, quite common in time travellers, nothing to be—oh dear!" He leapt for the console, curls flying. A few bleeps and blips later, he sighed and mopped his brow. "I almost forgot! Right, we're out of the timeslide, in normal time now. Gives us a bit more breathing room before the supernova."

"So it was just a dream," Rose murmured. The Doctor's explanation made sense—well, as much sense as his explanations ever made—but she was unconvinced. It had seemed so real.

"Most probably. I suppose there's a very tiny chance that it could have represented a—no! That can't be right, it simply can't be!" The Doctor was shaking his head vigorously and pointing to one of the monitors.

"What is it?" asked Rose. She peered over his shoulder at the monitor.

"The Dark Energy readings are off the scale! They should have gone down, and--" He leaned closer to the monitor, pointing to a long series of digits. "Is that...chronoton contamination? But that would mean the Void--"

Just then the ceiling flashed a brilliant orange.

"The supernova!" cried Rose.

"No. Not the supernova..." The Doctor pointed towards the source of light. Bursting from it was a multitude of tiny objects. There were hundreds of them, thousands, maybe millions. They streamed out in all directions. Slowly, as they got closer, their outlines became more distinguishable.

Rose stared at them in horror. "Doctor..." Her mouth went dry; she couldn't speak.

"I think," said the Doctor, "you are about to tell me that those aren't Kaleds."


	2. The Doctor's Diplomacy

**Chapter Two: The Doctor's Diplomacy**

"Daleks," Rose whispered. Their dark images covered the holographic TARDIS ceiling, blotting out the stars. "Let's get out of here, now!"

The Doctor didn't answer immediately. He narrowed his eyes; then glanced from his pocket watch to the Daleks and back again. Then he smiled brightly and stuffed the watch back in his waistcoat. "Whatever for? We're not bothering them. Perhaps they're here to watch the supernova, too."

Rose chuckled weakly. "Yeah, actually the Daleks are really into astronomy. Everybody knows that." She glanced at the Doctor; he seemed to have lost interest in the Daleks and was busily calibrating one of the instrument gauges. "Er...Doctor? That was a joke. Don't you think we should do something?"

He considered this for a moment. "I suppose we could say hello." He reached for the communicating viewscreen.

"No!" cried Rose, snatching his hand away. "What are you doing? Are you mad? These are _Daleks_! Don't you remember anything about them? I mean, they existed in your universe before you destroyed them, right? Don't you remember _why_ you destroyed them?"

"Er..." He smiled, somewhat sheepishly. "That's rather the problem with changing the timeline--one's memory soon falls into alignment with the prevailing reality. I recall that they might have been a bit ill-tempered, but---"

Rose couldn't believe it. She wanted to shake him. "They killed the Time Lords! All of them! I told you that, remember?"

"Knowing the Time Lords, probably they started it," said the Doctor, acidly. "Consider how they've treated _me_. Possibly these creatures are just...misunderstood." He side-stepped deftly past her, and turned on the communicating viewscreen. "A little diplomacy might go a long way. I'll just assure them of our goodwill, our peaceful intentions--"

"NO! Doctor, don't! Don't communicate with them! Please--the TARDIS is invisible, maybe they haven't spotted us yet!"

"And that's why I dislike being invisible so much. Seems improper to drop in without announcing oneself." He tapped the screen. "Hello, are you there? I say, hello? Can you read me? Over."

The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing the head of a Dalek. Glaring balefully at them with its blue eyestalk, it barked out a metallic, sing-song command. "IN-FER-IOR CREA-TURE, I-DEN-TI-FY YOUR-SELF!" Rose ducked down, hoping not to be seen.

"_Inferior_?" the Doctor protested. "No, no, no, not at all. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the--"

"Hush!" hissed Rose, giving the hem of his coat a sharp jerk. "They may not recognise your face, don't tell them who you are, _please_!"

"Of course they don't recognise me," he said, gazing down at her. "If they did, I wouldn't have to introduce myself." He nodded at the Dalek. "Forgive the interruption. As I was saying, I am the Doctor, and this is--oh, _will_ you stop tugging on my jacket?" The Doctor clucked his tongue, and took Rose by the shoulders, lifting her up and turning her to face the viewscreen. "This is Rose. Do forgive her manners; she's a bit...er...shy. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

There was a pause. The Doctor winked at Rose. "You see? Perfectly friendly. I've often found that a cordial manner and an assurance of good will--"

"YOU ARE THE DOC-TOR? YOU HAVE CHANGED YOUR AP-PEAR-ANCE AGAIN."

"Yes. Yes, I do that from time to time." He whispered to Rose, "Oh, I see. They've met up with an alternate version of me, then?"

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Marvelous. We'll get on splendidly, I'm sure." He returned his attention to the screen and beamed.

"YOU ARE THE ON-COMING STORM. AND YOUR COM-PAN-ION IS ROSE TY-LER? ROSE THE DES-TROYER?"

"The oncoming storm?" He laughed. "Poetic, to be sure--but just a bit melodramatic, don't you think? 'Doctor' will do perfectly fine. And Rose is just Rose. She hasn't destroyed anything, apart from that lamp last week--"

"RE-SIS-TANCE IS USE-LESS! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

"W-what?" stammered the Doctor, apparently taken aback. "_Exterminate_? Wait a moment, we mean you no harm! We desire only to extend the hand of diplomacy, the olive branch of peace, the prehensile proboscis of--"

There was a sudden flash of light. The TARDIS shuddered, and the control panel sparked, exploding into flame. Rose grabbed the fire extinguisher, and the Doctor dove for a large lever, pulling it down. "Right, heat shielding up!"

"You didn't even have the _shields_ up?" shrieked Rose, dousing the fire with plumes of white foam.

"Defensive shielding hardly expresses a sentiment of good will!" He tapped the viewscreen again. "That was simply uncalled for. Stop your barrage at once. Your weaponry will not penetrate our defences. We can still find an amicable way to--"

The TARDIS shuddered again. Books began falling from the upper shelves. The Doctor glanced at the instrument gauge he'd been calibrating earlier. "Heat shielding 75 percent? Rose, keep an eye on that!" She moved into position. Several more hits, and a whole bookcase toppled over and crashed to the ground.

"It says it's is at 37 percent!" Rose cried.

"Oh dear," said the Doctor. "It's gone a bit wrong. Er...right. I suppose the relevant term is, 'Battle stations'." He grabbed an object that resembled a propeller and spun it around. The floor revolved beneath their feet. When it came to a stop, the appearance of the console room had changed. It was white with hexagonal roundels set into the wall. It was completely bare except for a metallic central console, two chairs bolted to the floor, and a small viewscreen.

"Strap in," said the Doctor, leaping into one of the chairs. Rose followed suit, clicking the criss-crossing seat belts closed. The moment she was secure, the TARDIS hurtled forward at great speed.

"You're going to try to outrun them? Why not dematerialise?" asked Rose.

"Can't. Time Rotor's blasted. And I'm not trying to outrun _them_."

Just then something hit the TARDIS with astonishing force and blinding brightness. It shuddered and began to spin wildly out of control, end-over-end. Rose felt her body straining against the seat straps--but they held fast. The Doctor struggled forwards and managed to reach the controls. Several passes, and he had stablised their motion.

"Epic, Rose, epic! " He could scarcely catch his breath; he looked exhausted. But his eyes gleamed and he was grinning ear to ear. "Utopic! Off the Richter scale! THAT, my little wahine, was the supernova, the Eta Carinae supernova, biggest bang in the universe--well, except for the Big Bang, but--" He threw his head back and laughed. "Nova-surfing! Haven't done that since I was in the academy. I've always wanted to surf Eta, you know, but--Rose? What's the matter? Didn't you think that was exciting? Wasn't it fun?"

Rose had been gaping at him open-mouthed; she finally managed to stammer, "D-d-daleks?"

"Daleks, Daleks, Daleks. What about them? Look." He turned the viewscreen towards her. The vast legion of Daleks had disappeared. In its place were millions of blackened, burnt-out cinders. "Quite the wipeout, wouldn't you say? Drilled, wrecked, and tumbled. Bunch of stinkbuggers." He looked at her expectantly, as if he were waiting for praise.

"Er...Doctor," said Rose, staring at the viewscreen. "I think you should take a look at this."

With an air of impatience he flipped the screen around again. "Yes, very well, what is it now..._oh_." A tight formation of surviving Daleks slid into view.

The TARDIS communicator crackled to life. "YOU WILL BE EX-TER-MIN-AT-ED! RE-SIS-TANCE IS USE-LESS! RE-SIS-TANCE IS USE-LESS!"

"Rassilon's frilly knickers, will you lot shut up?" The Doctor reached for the controls again. The TARDIS jerked into motion. To Rose's horror, she realised that they were heading directly _towards_ the Daleks.

"What are you doing?" She remembered how, on the Restaurant at the End of the Multiverse, he had wandered off in the direction of a set of murderous Daleks, apparently suicidally. "No, Doctor, don't!" she cried. "You'll get us both killed!" She reached forwards, hoping to wrest the controls from him; but the force of their increasing acceleration threw her back.

"Hang on tight," he called. "The G-forces will get very strong!"

The pressure grew higher and higher. Soon it was difficult to breathe. Blood pulsed noisily in her ears. Her head was pinned against her chair. Unable to do anything but look up, she stared with horror at the yawning blackness opening up ahead. Her vision closed to a tunnel, and then--nothing.


	3. Madness in his Method

**Chapter Three: Madness in his Method**

A throbbing sound, like a heartbeat. Diffuse light. Then...blinking...

Rose opened her eyes and saw cobwebs. Cobwebs and dust. Several more blinks, and she recognised the familiar TARDIS ceiling. A holographic bat winged past. Rose realised she was lying down. She sat up and looked around. She didn't see the Doctor. She panicked for a fraction of a second; and then she saw them: legs, sticking out from under the console. She was on the sofa, in the adjacent sitting room. Had it all been another dream? "Doctor," she whispered.

He slid out from under the console and sat up. "Ah, good. You're awake. The tidal forces _were_ rather intense, so it's no wonder you--"

"Daleks," said Rose. "Are they--"

"Gone." Without further explanation, he reached up and flipped a large lever on the console; then, open-mouthed, watched the central Time Rotor.

"What happened?"

"The TARDIS sustained some significant damage. I've had to make do with the chrono-mechanical equivalent of sticking plaster and tape, but…if I've been very clever…" The Time Rotor glowed blue and began to move up and down. He straightened his cravat with an air of suppressed triumph; then turned his attention to one of the monitors.

Rose massaged her temples. "I meant, what happened to the Daleks?"

"The event horizon…" He began to gesture vaguely; then shrugged and said, "I'll explain later."

"But—fine, whatever." She sighed, then swung her legs off the sofa and stood. Her fear of imminent destruction now dissipated, a growing sense of self-righteousness and anger was taking its place. "I hope, _Doctor_," she said, in a tone that she hoped was both stern and calm, "next time you're able to remember what Daleks are like. It's a miracle you didn't get us killed." She waited for a response.

She got none. The Doctor was studying the monitor intently. His lips moved slightly as the numbers slid by.

Rose gritted her teeth and counted to ten; then, slowly, walked just behind him. In a voice somewhat less calm, she said, "Doctor, what you did was really…I mean, what were you _thinking_? Why didn't you listen to me? I know those Daleks, I recognised them, they came out of the Void. The Doctor—the other Doctor—and I put them there. That's why they wanted to kill us—well, that and a load of other reasons, but…" Rose paused for moment. She had been talking to the back of the Doctor's head. He still didn't seem to be listening. Frustrated, she exploded, "I was trying to warn you! But no, you just have to blunder off, do things your own way..."

Finally stirring, he glanced at her over one shoulder. "It is useful to be underestimated by one's enemies," he said, mildly. "But, I confess, a bit disappointing to be so regarded by one's friends."

Rose started to retort. But then...something suddenly occurred to her. That something rose up the back of her neck. It clenched at her chest and made her cheeks burn.

"What you did...it was on _purpose_."

"You think so?"

"You were acting like a…like an idiot. But it was...it was just an act."

"They certainly seemed to find my company diverting; so diverting, in fact, that they failed to take notice of an impending and catastrophic stellar phenomenon."

"The...supernova?"

The Doctor nodded. "Subsequently, they failed to accurately estimate the mass of the resultant black hole."

Rose couldn't believe it. His plan had been so simple, so obvious, so effective. How could she have not seen? "You made them chase you—except you were probably jamming their gravity sensors somehow. We went around the black hole, they went in. Is that what happened?"

He regarded the tips of his fingernails. "Or perhaps I was merely...blundering about."

"Oooh!" Rose turned away suddenly, her head in her hands. "On top of everything, you didn't just kill them without giving them a chance. I'm such a—look, you could have _told_ me that's what you were up to!"

"You could have trusted me. Anyway, there wasn't time; and your protestations added a certain...ah...verisimilitude, adding to the Daleks' confusion." He gazed at her, not quite smiling; but his blue eyes glinted mischievously.

His ignoring her had been infuriating; but this amused smugness was simply too much to bear. "You...oh! I'm going to--" She wanted to grab him and smack him and...and...and kiss him, maddening, brilliant, beautiful man... But what if her dream had been more than a dream? What could it do to them both? Thus torn, she stood before him transfixed, one hand half-raised.

He flashed a smile. "For single-handedly defeating millions of Daleks? For saving both our lives? Such ingratitude!" As quickly as it had appeared, his smile faded. "Rose. There's a question you haven't asked."

His sudden change in tone was alarming. Rose let her hand fall. "What question?"

The Doctor pulled out his pocket watch and turned it through his fingers. "The Web of Time. Created by Rassilon, maintained by the Time Lords, and fully integrated into the fabric of space, the Web of Time protects causality and guards history. Effects follow causes; and what must happen, does happen. A massive star can bend it; a paradox can twist it; but something, somehow fractured it. That's how the Daleks got out of the Void. The question is this, Rose: what fractured the Web of Time?"

"I don't know. What?"

His brow darkened. He stuffed the watch back in his pocket and glanced away. "There's but one rational explanation…" A light on the console began to blink. "Good!" he said abruptly, as though glad of a distraction. "Acceleration has stabilised, finally. Safe to start slowing down." He flipped a switch, then glanced up at Rose. "Hugging the event horizon of a black hole causes a rather impressive acceleration. We broke the light barrier, and have been hurtling across space and backwards in time, in a relative way."

"A relative way?"

"There once was a lady named Bright  
Who travelled much faster than light  
She set out one day  
In a _relative_ way  
And returned on the previous night."

"Like…relativity? But you said Einstein was--"

"Your Einstein understood the basics. But, like Newton, Maxwell, and Hawking, he didn't quite comprehend the whole picture. Right, we've stopped." He glanced down at the navigational dials and chuckled. "Sometimes I think the TARDIS is fonder of your planet than I am. Believe it or not, we've ended up in your solar system, Rose. Forty-ninth century." He flipped on the holographic projector. "A fascinating but sad period in your history. An atmosphere full of carbon dioxide raised the temperature, turning Earth into a desert for millenia. Had to terraform it to make it livable. Vast geodesic domes covered the surface; a tolerable existence for those of you who could afford--"

"That's not Earth," said Rose, looking up.

"I know it looks different, but I assure you…" The Doctor trailed off, following her gaze. Instead of a blue sphere topped with swirling white clouds, a blackened, burnt planet hung above them. Half of it appeared to have been blown away. There was no moon; and absolutely no signs of life. "It…it…must be the navigational controls," stammered the Doctor. "Damaged, no doubt, by the Dalek attack. Not a problem, no problem at all--I'll just plot our position by hand." He began to lay star charts over the holographic ceiling projection. He ferreted in his pockets, found a stub of pencil, and scribbled calculations on his shirt cuff.

"That's not Earth. Can't be. I saw how Earth died," said Rose, quietly, urgently, as if trying to convince herself. "When the sun expanded, in the year five billion. It's some other planet, has to be."

The pencil clattered to the floor. Rose turned around. The Doctor was staring at her. His face was pale; his eyes, stricken. "There is no mistake; my calculations and the TARDIS computer agree. This _is_ Earth. Oh Rose, I am sorry. Your planet…" He turned away, averting his eyes from her and from the charred, lifeless hulk floating above them. "What have I done?"


	4. Round the HalfTwist

**Chapter Four: Round the Half-Twist**

Rose gazed up at the dead remains of her home. Had her other Doctor felt this way once? In truth, she couldn't feel anything; she was numb. None of it seemed real.

"I'm a menace." The Doctor's whole aspect crumpled. "A danger to the universe. You should have left me on Shada."

All around her, his despair seemed to swirl, nearly palpable. Perhaps more able to respond to his feelings than acknowledge her own, Rose turned to him. "You didn't do this. How is this your fault?"

"How...how is it my fault?" he said, haltingly. "I will tell you. I owe you that. The Void opened up and let the Daleks in because of Rip effects--Dark Energy, that's what fractured the Web of Time. The Kaleds must have continued to develop the Dark Energy technology--meaning, I failed to stop them. I also gave them the formulae for Graviton theory, which allows for travel through time. Ergo, armed with an unlimited source of destructive energy and the power of time travel..." His shoulders slumped; he shook his head. "I think you can work out the rest."

"The Kaleds fought wars...through time." Rose felt suddenly cold, as an icy wave of horror washed over her. "Doctor--"

"How can you speak to me? How can you even look at me? I've destroyed your planet. I've murdered your people."

Rose was speechless for a moment. "But...but...you didn't mean to--"

"No, of _course _I didn't mean to! But that's not the point, is it? I thought I could save the universe, restore the future, undo my past mistakes." He sighed heavily, bitterly. "I fear your planet is just the first in a long string of casualties." He clutched at the Time Rotor lever, and pulled it down.

"Where are we going?"

"To Gallifrey, if it's still standing," he called, over the TARDIS dematerialisation scream. "And if it is, well...I've done enough damage for several lifetimes, I think. I'll surrender my TARDIS, turn myself in. Try to keep out of trouble, although at this point it's the proverbial barn door after the horse--"

The TARDIS began to pitch and roll. A lit candelabra toppled over, setting alight several of the books strewn across the floor. Rose reflexively leapt towards the fire and stamped it out. "Doctor, no! Don't say that!"

But the Doctor didn't respond. He stood frozen, apparently oblivious to the growing chaos, his eyes fixed upon the console. "That's...that's not possible," he said, in tones of great disbelief. Tentatively, hesitantly, almost fearfully, he reached out and dragged his fingers along one of the dials. After raptly gazing at the dial for a few moments, he produced a mallet from beneath the console and rapped it sharply. Then he bent down close to the dial, examining it intensely, turning it back and forth between his fingers. "Amazing," he murmured. "Remarkable... _marvelous_!"

Rose, meanwhile, had taken up the fire extinguisher again, only barely keeping pace with the flames from the candles falling all around. "Doctor, what's going on? The TARDIS! We're out of control!" She grabbed his shoulder, pulling him from the console, turning him around to face her.

His face, reflecting the blue glow of the Time Rotor, seemed lit also from within. His eyes burned with a sort of crackling, maniacal joy. "Mobius revolution, Rose! One traverse, multiple time streams!" Amidst the crash of glass, the thud of falling books, and the crackle of flame, the Doctor scooped Rose up into his arms and spun her about.

In other circumstances, Rose might not have minded this; but in these, she was dismayed. He seemed almost deranged. "Doctor! Stop it!"

"Terribly dangerous, but it's the best possible news! The chronotons--in the Time Vortex--they're orbiting 'round in a half-twist. A half-twist, do you understand?

"No!" cried Rose, wresting from his grasp.

"I'll spell it out then," he said, beaming. He dashed over to the bookshelf and scrabbled in it for a moment. Then he pulled a dark, flat, grooved disk from its paper sleeve and set it upon his record player.

A voice sang forth, skipping as the TARDIS pitched:

_When you had left our pirate fold, _

_We tried to raise our spirits faint, _

_According to our custom old, _

_With quip and quibble quaint. _

_But all in vain the quips we heard, _

_We lay and sobbed upon the rocks, _

_Until to somebody occurred _

_A startling paradox…_

A sliver of TARDIS interior hung in the air and widened. The Doctor jumped out, then held the door for his companion.

"A paradox?" she asked.

"A paradox," he replied, brightly. "A most ingenious paradox!"

Squinting against the brilliant sunshine, Rose stepped hesitantly out onto a grassy lawn. "Doctor...I don't know how to say this, but...look, you seem a little--"

"Mad? Yes, paradoxes can sometimes send one 'round the half-twist. But I'm not mad, Rose, not mad at all. I'm happy!" By way of illustrating his sentiments, he flung his arms into the air and spun about.

"And," said Rose, attempting to speak slowly and calmly, "why are you happy?"

"Because it's a paradox!" said the Doctor, as if that explained everything. "I set the TARDIS to follow it back to its inflection point. Now, the most salient question is—when have we landed? I can't be entirely sure, but I suspect we've gone back several thousand years."

Rose glanced about, taking in their unfamiliar surroundings. "Where do you think we are?"

"Where? That's easy." He licked his finger and held it in the air. "We're in the Emerald City."


	5. Blundering About

**Chapter 5: "Blundering About"**

"It looks like we're on Earth, before it was...er...anyway, what d'you mean, Emerald City?"

They were standing in a park situated on a steep bluff, offering spectacular views of the city below. The Doctor lowered his finger and pointed. "That's the Seattle skyline, and out there in the distance is Mount Rainier—considered an active volcano geologically, but don't fret, it won't erupt for another twelve hundred years, give or take, assuming this is the early twenty-first century—and that's the Space Needle."

"Oh, _Seattle_," said Rose. "You could have said."

"Yes, Seattle--and good thing, too." The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced sideways. "For a moment there, I'd a horrible feeling we were in San Francisco."

"What's so horrible about San Francisco?"

"I left one of my hearts there."

Rose made no reply, offering instead a pained expression.

"Of course, I regenerated it back..."

Ignoring this, Rose squinted at the unusual tower looming before them. "Weird. It looks like a...I don't know, a flying saucer, a spaceship."

"It _is_ a spaceship."

Rose shot him an incredulous look. "You're making it up."

"Not at all. After the whole Roswell debacle, the Yanks learned to hide things in plain sight. Anyway, come along."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Down, I think." He gestured towards the city below.

"What's your plan?"

"I thought I'd do a bit of--what was that phrase you used?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah yes--'blundering about.' I've a real talent for that. And being an idiot, doing things my own way..." He wandered off down a street adjoining the small park.

Rose stood watching him for a moment. His eyes were darting around, and he kept craning his neck this way and that. Nothing seemed to escape his notice: the view of the city, the houses lining the street, even the sprays of lavender that he bent down to smell. He stopped once and closed his eyes, evidently savouring the sensation of sunlight upon his face. He had the appearance of someone who was trying to commit to memory every detail of an experience. It struck Rose, then, that his apparent happiness might be another act, perhaps as much for his own benefit as hers. Possibly this nonsense about paradoxes was simply an excuse--an excuse to go back and visit his beloved Earth one last time.

Rose caught up with him and took his arm. "Doctor, about the 'blundering.' I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"Would you like a cup of tea?" interrupted the Doctor, as they turned a corner and headed down the very steep Queen Anne Avenue. Without pausing for a reply, he continued, "I know I would. But the problem is, you can't get a decent cup of tea in the States, not unless you're interested in a beverage that resembles nothing so much as a brown crayon dipped in water. And in Seattle, particularly, some might say it's almost a sacrilege to drink tea."

"Sacrilege?" asked Rose. She pointed across the street, at a café with the words "Coffee Messiah" emblazoned across the front.

"Only in Seattle," said the Doctor, drily. "Let's go." He started across the street.

"Wait—I don't have any money. And I know you don't carry any."

The Doctor shot her a puzzled look. "You must mean— i _your /i _ Doctor doesn't. That simplifies things, I imagine. Money can get a bit complicated if you travel extensively."

The dark, narrow interior of the Gothic coffeehouse was painted in shades of deep crimson and aubergine. Gargoyles grimaced down at them. But the smiling barista was far less forbidding than her extensively tattooed and pierced appearance might have augured. They ordered their coffee. When it came time to pay, the Doctor reached into his pocket and produced a fistful of change, which spilled out onto the counter. "Let's see—twenty-first century U.S. I know I've got some here..."

The coins were of all different shapes and sizes—round, oblong, spherical. Some changed colors. Some glowed. One rose up on tiny legs and skittered away. The barista was tremendously interested in them; and the Doctor happily chattered to her about the provenance of each one. Taking advantage of the distraction, Rose quietly picked up their coffee, and sat down at an outside table.

Within a few minutes, Rose became aware of a couple of teenagers with skateboards who were whispering to one another and pointing at her. One of them was tall and gangly, with a mop of long, wavy ginger hair sticking out from under a skullcap. The other was medium height with blonde dreadlocks, and wore a black T-shirt covered in white skulls. She stared back at them and said, "What are you looking at?"

They immediately sat down at the table with her. "You with that guy in there?" asked the ginger boy, pointing inside. The Doctor had, by this time, attracted a small but very enthusiastic crowd. He seemed to be telling a story, and acting out the various parts. One of them, evidently, was a monster, as the Doctor was hulking about and making "booga-booga" gestures with his fingers. Then he clapped his hands to his neck, and pantomimed being dragged down by something.

Rose turned around again, quickly. "What's it to you?"

"You could ditch him. Come with us—it'll be fun," said the other, winking at her hard.

"Let me think about it." Rose made a show of thinking about it. "Um—no."

"Oh, come on! Tell you a secret…" The ginger boy leaned forward, dropping his voice to a loud whisper. "I'm from another planet." I got a spaceship. Want to see it?" He sat back and grinned at her.

Without missing a beat, Rose replied, "Have you registered it? 'Cause Torchwood'll shoot you down if they think you're violating Earth airspace."

The boys looked at one another in surprise; then sniggered. "Like Torchwood could stop us," the blonde boy snorted.

"You think you're so impressive," said Rose, shaking her head.

"What—we're not?" They pretended to sob. The blonde boy wrung his hands and wiped his eyes; then grabbed Rose's napkin and blew his nose noisily into it. The ginger boy clutched at his chest and cried, "You're killing me! All right, we'll impress you, I guarantee. After tonight, you won't say no to _us_!"

They leapt onto their skateboards. The blonde looked over his shoulder and made a loud kissing noise at her. Then they sped off.

Rose stood up and shouted after them, "I'm serious! Flying an unregistered spacecraft--it's dangerous, you could get killed!" Several passersby turned to stare.

"What's going on?" asked the Doctor, emerging from the café.

"Space punks," said Rose, sighing. "Buzzing Earth, think it's clever. Torchwood'll roast 'em. And they know it, but they do it anyway. I don't get it."

"You don't?" laughed the Doctor. "No, of course not. You're the one for playing it safe, not taking any chances. You'd never, for example, go off across the universe with a strange man—"

"A _very_ strange man."

"Watch it, you—simply because he happened to have the same name as someone you used to know."

Rose pulled a face. "By the way, what took you so long in there? What were you doing?"

"I was asking if anything unusual had happened here lately." He sat down and picked up his now-lukewarm coffee. "Naturally, I had to tell them the whole story."

Rose pulled up her chair next to him. She swirled the last of her coffee around in her cup. "Did you tell them about the paradox?"

"Goodness, no. Even a brief explanation of chronodynamic manifold theory would have taken weeks."

"There isn't a paradox, is there?" She looked up into his eyes. "You're just here because you want to see Earth again. I'm thinking you're not supposed to do that, since we're part of the timeline..."

"That's just it," said the Doctor, meeting her gaze. "There are multiple, coexistent, superimposed timelines surrounding Earth. Each equally valid, most tremendously unstable, all because of the paradox. You're quite correct that I can't typically go back in time and undo the effects of my actions; but if those actions have created a paradox, then I pretty well must."

After the coffee stop, they continued their descent of Queen Anne Avenue. All the while, the Space Needle loomed above them. Presently, the Doctor turned left onto a street called Mercer. "You're heading towards it," said Rose. "The Space Needle. Do you think it's important?"

"I doubt it," said the Doctor, glancing up at it. "It's just an old freezing and refrigeration saucer. Still, I think it's as good a direction as any to...ah...blunder towards. Oh! Look at that!" He suddenly ran towards a steel and glass building and pressed his nose against one of the windows.

"You think this has something to do with the paradox?" asked Rose, chasing after him.

"Possibly--well, probably not, but that's not the point."

Rose was now completely puzzled. "What is--"

"Marvelous! _Der Rosenkavalier_! Opening night's tonight. Richard Strauss—the German Strauss, mind you, not the Viennese, though _Der Rosenkavalier_ is set in Vienna, which might cause some confusion, I suppose. We should get tickets..."

"This is...what? Some kind of concert hall?" Rose chuckled. "Yeah, tickets. But I'm thinking--isn't there something else we ought to be doing?"

"If you don't have time for art, you don't have time for life," the Doctor protested, but allowed Rose to gently lead him away from the window. He gazed up at the metal screens hanging above the walkway. "I can't say I care much for the architecture, it's very cold. But I daresay it will look better tonight."

"We're not--look, even if we had the time, I'm not a big fan of classical--"

"Come along, Rose. If we're going to save the Earth, repair the Web of Time, restore the future _and_ make a 7:30 curtain, we'd better get moving." He headed for a covered walkway, perhaps seeking a shady respite from the intense sunshine.

Rose started to follow him; but something about the playbill caught her eye. She paused to look at it for a moment; then clapped her hands over her mouth in surprise.

Over his shoulder, the Doctor called after her, "I mean it, Rose. About the curtain. They won't seat latecomers after the music's begun--"

Rose turned from the window and caught up to him. "It's August 6th! Today's August 6th, 2006!"

"Yes, early twenty-first century, as I estimated."

"You picked me up on August 6th! This is the day I left Earth with you!"

"I see." He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "What a coincidence."

"Stroke of luck, really. First time I got in a TARDIS, I was gone a whole year. I ought to call my mum, she'll be--"

The Doctor stopped short. He turned and stared at her. "Your _mum_?"

"Yeah, my mum. And Pete—he's my dad—oh, he'll be mental."

"You…you said...you said you'd got stranded here," he stammered. "You said you were from another universe."

"Yeah, that's right."

"You got stranded here—_with your parents?_"

"And my boyfriend. It's a long story." Rose shrugged.

"I imagine it must be. Odd that you hadn't mentioned those…details."

"You didn't ask." Just then the covered walkway ended, and they stepped out into brilliant sunshine. The space needle now dominated the sky, towering high above them. Perhaps eager to changed the subject, Rose pointed at it. "It really looks like a flying saucer--like from an old movie. A refrigeration ship, you said?"

"That's why they put a restaurant in. This way." They passed an enormous, spherical metal fountain, set into a large bowl deep in the ground. A spiraling path led to the bottom of it. Children played in the spray; and on the surrounding green lawn people sprawled out on towels, enjoying the sun.

"What a beautiful day...I'd heard Seattle was very rainy," said Rose, idly.

"It is, for the most part. But for about three months in the summertime, it's like this day after day—sunny, cloudless skies with a cool breeze off the sound. Perfect climate for grape-growing, actually, which reminds me—we really ought, at some point, to head over across the lake to the wineries..."

"Concerts! Wineries!" Rose laughed. "So we're here on holiday, are we?"

"If you do not take the time to enjoy—ah, here we are!" They had passed through a small amusement park and were standing at the entrance to the Space Needle. A line snaked out the door and curled around the base of the tower.

Rose sighed. "Clear day, everybody wants to look at the view. I suppose we'll have to queue up for the elevator." She headed for the back of the line.

"Or we could take the stairs," said the Doctor, pointing at the central fire escape, "all 832 of them. But I don't think we need to go up; it's just a refrigeration ship, as I said. Even so, I feel this is the right place."

"Doctor," said Rose suddenly, "Could this paradox warp objects? Could it warp space?"

"Possibly. Why?"

She nodded at an adjacent building. The exterior seemed to bend and warp without any regard for right angles or aesthetics. "There's something really, really wrong with that place. Amazing no one's noticed it yet."

The Doctor stared at it with narrowed eyes, stroking his chin. "Believe it or not, I really think it was _meant_ to look that way."

Rose laughed. "Yeah? The architect must have been smoking some serious—look!" She pointed. "This...this is it. This is where we want to go, I'm sure of it now!"

The Doctor glanced at the building again, then back at Rose. "Other than being an absolute monstrosity, there's nothing really remarkable about it. Awful architecture seems to be a theme..."

"No, Doctor—_look_!"

He turned around. On the window behind him was etched an unmistakable image--the outline of a Dalek.


	6. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Chapter 6: Hiding in Plain Sight**

The Doctor stared at the Dalek-shaped silhouette for a moment; then reached forward, tracing it with his fingers. "I had hoped I was mistaken. But I can fathom no other explanation: the Kaleds have definitely been here." He explored past the window, and came upon an adjacent door. His fingers closed about the handle. He glanced over his shoulder at Rose. "Shall we find out what they've been up to?"

"Yeah," said Rose, realising just then that she had been holding her breath. "Go on, then. Open it."

But the handle wouldn't turn. It was locked. Reflexively, the Doctor reached in his pocket; then winced, remembering that his sonic screwdriver lay shattered in pieces on Gallifrey. Without turning to Rose, he asked, "Got a hairpin?" Hearing no reply, he murmured peevishly, "That's the trouble with you twenty-first century women. No hairpins. Mid-twentieth century and before: hairpins, hatpins, brooches, you name it. All the essentials for breaking and entering." Letting go of the handle, he turned around. "Right. No hairpins, no sonic screwdriver. We'll have to go in the usual way. Front door!" He walked off, gesturing imperiously to Rose.

Following after him, Rose muttered under her breath, "If you like hairpins so much, wear them yourself. _Your_ hair's long enough."

As they headed around the building, they came upon a small but unusual group of people. Their colourful apparel seemed at once anachronistic, futuristic, and haphazard. A few were dressed as animals. Rose paused to get a better look at them.

"Are you with the tour?" A middle-aged man holding a clipboard was gazing at her inquisitively. Clad in a blue jumper and black trousers, he appeared the most conventional of the group. Still, there was something unusual about his ears. "Well?"

"Yes. Yes, we are," said the Doctor, peering over the man's shoulder. He pointed to the clipboard. "We're...er...Jackson and Dunbar."

"Great, that's everyone," said the blue-shirted man, flipping his clipboard closed. Ushering the group inside, he led them through a cavernous, mirrored chamber. It was entirely dark, apart from the dim glow of a series of tall, glass cases.

Rose glanced at a placard next to one of them and gasped. "Electric Gypsy? Doctor! Doctor, look--it says it belonged to Jimi Hendrix!" She gawked for a moment, then ran to the next case. "Unbelievable! They're stage costumes! James Brown, Kurt Cobain--"

"I seem to recall someone pooh-poohing opera and wineries as entertainments we didn't have time for." The Doctor winked at her. "Now who's getting distracted?"

"This isn't the EMP tour," interrupted the blue-shirted man. "This way." He pointed them into an adjacent corridor.

"EMP?" asked Rose. "Doesn't that mean...electromagnetic pulse, or something?"

"Experience Music Project," said the Doctor, hooking his thumbs into his waistcoat. "Last time I was in town, Saul mentioned he wanted to do something like this. Museum of Rock and Roll."

"Saul?"

"And, come to think of it, he also said he wanted to... Aha! Look." He pointed to a sign on the wall.

Rose stared at the sign for a moment; then she had to clap her hands over her mouth to smother her giggles. "Oh yeah...all makes sense. You!" She pointed at the blue-shirted man. "I get it now. You're Spock. You're Mr Spock, right? Oh, and there's Princess Leia, Chewbacca, a Predator..."

Mr Spock sighed deeply, in a manner he hoped would convey both his intellectual superiority and his patient, long-suffering nature. He turned to the Doctor, intending to offer his sympathies as to the sacrifices a true science fiction aficionado had to make in order to secure the attentions of the fairer sex; but something about the Doctor bothered him. He frowned. "Who are you supposed to be? I don't recognise your costume."

"Costume? Oh--I'm the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Mr Spock shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell. Hey, you're British, right? Is it one of those British science fiction shows? Like Blake's 7?"

The Doctor flicked an invisible piece of lint from his jacket. "Er...something like that."

"Damn! That's region 2 only!" Spock cried, clearly very distressed. "I keep telling my mom, we HAVE to get a region-free DVD player."

The entrance attendant waved them through the turnstiles, and the group headed into the exhibit area. Robots and ray guns surrounded them. A toothy monster glared balefully from behind protective glass. A series of glowing panels celebrated the lives of famous science fiction writers, forming an eerie hall of fame.

An arrangement of what appeared to be plastic laser cannons caught Rose's eye. She studied it with increasing incredulity and then dismay. She pulled on the Doctor's sleeve and whispered, urgently. "You're not going to believe this, but...there's real alien tech in here! That's not a just a movie prop, it's a Frangipaxian supercooling gun!"

The Doctor nodded. "So it seems. Like the Space Needle, it's all hiding in plain sight. No Kaled tech, though, that I can see." He glanced at the tour group. The blue-shirted man was pointing to a display case whilst enthusiastically expounding upon the details of Star Trek phaser construction. "Spock seems occupied," he whispered to Rose. "Let's go and have a look 'round. I daresay there's even more here than meets the eye."

They slipped away, soon finding a door marked "Staff Only." The Doctor put his hand on the knob; it turned. Glancing at Rose with an expression of anticipatory glee, he raised his finger to his lips and slowly pushed the door open.

Unfortunately, however, this maneuvre resulted in a piercing, eldritch squeal from the door hinges. The occupants of the room on the other side looked up. One of them was a middle-aged man with short brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. "Saul!" The Doctor rushed forwards and grabbed the man's hand, pumping it up and down happily. "So good to see you! It's been too long."

"Should I call security, Mr Allyn?" said an obsequious man seated next to Saul, clearly his assistant.

"It's me, Saul. I'm the Doctor, don't you remember? The alien with the time machine, helped you with your ideas about that little business you wanted to set up?"

Saul stared, confused, at the Doctor's face. "You...but...how can...you can't be the Doctor! You don't look anything like him!"

By way of reply, the Doctor grinned toothily, widened his eyes, and pantomimed tossing a long scarf about his neck. Saul jumped, clearly recognising the gesture.

"I changed my appearance," said the Doctor. "I do that from time to time. Alien, remember? But, I assure you, I am the Doctor. And this is Rose; Rose, meet Saul Allyn, philanthropist and co-founder of a software company you might have heard of." Saul stared back and forth between the two of them, open-mouthed and speechless. There was an awkward pause. "Er...well!" said the Doctor, brightly. "Judging from the collection out there, I'd say your SETI project has been a great success. Still, I'd put the cold fusion generator away, if I were you."

"The--the what?" stammered Saul, finding his voice.

"Just outside, in the main exhibit area. Between the Buck Rogers pistol and the Bat'leth, you can't miss it."

Saul leaned over and whispered something to his assistant. Then he straightened up and turned to the Doctor. "I...I had no idea. Thank you, Doctor! Would you be willing to look at some other pieces in my collection? There are a few we can't identify. I'm happy to pay a standard consultant's fee—"

"Fee? No, no, no, wouldn't dream of it." The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "As for reviewing your collection, perhaps later. At the moment, I'm looking for a bit of information. Have you ever heard of a race of creatures called Kaleds?" The Doctor paused; blank stares were his only answer. "Or, failing that, any unusual occurrences, strange visitors, that sort of thing?"

Rose became aware that there was yet another person present, sitting across a table from Saul and his assistant, in the far corner of the room. He was slumped in his chair and his head was hanging down; she could see that he had short, black hair and was wearing a sort of uniform.

"As a matter of fact," said Saul, "we've had an unusual visitor, and--"

"Jack!" cried Rose. "You're alive!"

The last time Rose had seen Captain Jack Harkness, he had been an unwilling guest upon a Time Lord's TARDIS. Rose and the Lord President of Gallifrey, Chronotis, had lured Jack away from the ship he had stolen from the Kaleds. Jack, for reasons unknown, had transmatted off Chronotis' TARDIS whilst it was travelling in the Time Vortex--presumably journeying to his death. Jack's loss had affected Rose deeply, despite the great anger she had harboured for him at the time.

Jack startled at the sound of his name, and looked up at her. Mirrored aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. "You…you...you're not here, you shouldn't be here," he stammered.

Rose stared at him first in amazement, then with joy; finally, she laughed. "I could say the same of you."

"N...no, you're dead...Autons! They smashed your head in! Betwixt and between...nothingness...or you never were alive!" He yelped, apparently in pain, and clutched at his hair.

"It's not just you, Rose," said Saul, quickly. "He's been saying similar things to the rest of the staff. But in between the ravings, he's been saying that he's from the future. 51st century. Probably just a lunatic, but--"

"Autons?" Rose murmured. Jack's outburst had suddenly disturbed her, more than she liked to admit; waves of confusion and fear washed over her. She glanced about the room. Saul and his assistant seemed quite as uneasy as she was.

"Autons. Nestene consciousness, living plastic." The Doctor shrugged--a forced gesture, as if he were willfully shrugging something off. He pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Jack. "I'm not an Auton. I'm here to help."

"Help? No one can help me! I fell--I fell through nothing. I--"

A shrill alarm sounded suddenly, so loud it was painful. "What's that?" cried the Doctor, turning to Saul.

"Security breach!" Saul sprang to his feet and headed for the door, his assistant close behind.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed the Doctor, following him. "Let's hope it's nothing important--just one of your Hendrix guitars or something--" Rose jumped up also; but glanced anxiously over her shoulder at Jack. He was muttering incoherently to himself, apparently oblivious to the alarm. Somewhat reluctantly, she followed the Doctor and the others out into the main exhibit area.

The tour group was still there, milling about and talking excitedly amongst themselves. All of the display cases were standing wide open. Various alien weapons were littered across the floor. "Which way," panted the Doctor. "Which way did they go?"

The group stared blankly at him for a second; then, most of them pointed towards the exit. "But that was five minutes ago," said Mr Spock. "Security went after them, but..."

"Five minutes!" exclaimed Saul, motioning to his beleaguered assistant to shut off the alarm. "That long?"

"Um..." Spock stared at his feet. "We didn't realise it was a break-in at first. There were two of them, an Alien and a Predator. They were fighting. We thought it was a show, part of the exhibit. But afterwards we--oh my God, you're Saul Allyn! Mr Allyn, it's such a privilege to talk to you in person, I must have sent you hundreds of emails--could I talk to you about the Babylon 5 exhibits? Please? I think some of them are miscategorised..."

Saul sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Doctor patted him on the shoulder. "Let's find out what was taken, if anything. Looks like they left quite a bit behind. Look--" He bent down and began sorting through the weaponry on the floor. "Here's a Sontaran blaster, very dangerous...and a Vreelan transmat pod...a Corixian hair-dryer..." He straightened up, dusting off his hands. "Perhaps they were just playing, had no idea what was really here."

Spock, however, was pointing at a small case. "The Minbaran meditation stone is missing. I don't see it anywhere."

"The what?" asked the Doctor, smiling bemusedly.

"It was exhibit 642, described as a Minbaran meditation stone from episode 31 of Babylon 5."

"642, 642, which one is that?" said Saul's assistant, leaping towards a nearby workstation and scrolling through the exhibit index.

The blue-shirted man cleared his throat. "However, a systematic review of every second of episode 31 reveals no mention of a meditation stone. Neither does a search of all 111 episodes, five movies, and even the lost scenes. I am completely convinced that this item isn't even part of Babylon 5. I've sent you 87 emails on this subject, Mr Allyn, and published a monograph on it in 'Quark Quarterly,' and--"

The Doctor held up a hand. "How very thorough of you. What did it look like?"

"Size approximately five centimeters by 3 centimeters, shape ovoid, colour metallic blue."

"Thanks very much for your help. "The Doctor turned away from the crowd and took Saul's arm. "Do you know what it was?"

"No, that's the problem," said Saul, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. "It was one of our unclassified items."

"Well," said the Doctor, "from the description, it was either a Molockian musk container, or..." Saul's assistant, having found the exhibit, flipped his monitor screen around to show the Doctor. "Or it's a Chula matter disperser." The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Saul, Saul, Saul. You might think of not putting something on display if you don't know what it is."

"What's a...Chula matter disperser?" asked Saul, hesitantly, as if he were afraid of what the answer might be.

"Oh, just a little thing of no consequence. Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, powerful enough to blow a hole through miles of steel." He started to walk away.

"Wait--where are you going?" asked Saul.

"To resume my conversation with Jack. His being here is more than a coincidence, I think." The Doctor turned on his heel and returned to the "Staff Only" room; then stood, aghast, in the open doorway.

Rose peered over his shoulder. "Jack!" she cried. "Where is he?"


	7. Significant Details

**Chapter 7: Significant Details **

"Rose."

"Yes?"

"Tell me about Jack. Jack and his stolen Kaled ship. The Dark Energy ship, do you remember?"

"Yeah, of course I--"

The Doctor had made a quick search of the Science Fiction museum, and then had run out into the Seattle Center, searching for Jack. Unfortunately, it was crowded with people enjoying themselves on the fine Saturday afternoon. Rose very nearly got separated from the Doctor. By the time she caught up with him, he was wandering to-and-fro and quietly muttering to himself.

"I recall your telling me that you'd destroyed it. Were you in error?"

"No. We destroyed it, like I said."

"What became of Jack?"

"He was with us, on Chronotis' TARDIS. But then he transmatted off while we were in the Vortex."

The Doctor stopped pacing; he stared at her intensely. "Why did you not tell me this before?"

"Look, I..." Rose swallowed hard. "Chronotis said he must have died. You'd just been rescued from Shada, you were weak. You seemed so happy when I told you we'd destroyed the ship. I just didn't want to spoil--"

"Rose," said the Doctor, quietly. "In future, I must ask you not to withhold important information from me. Not even to spare my 'feelings.' Do I make myself clear?"

Rose pressed her lips together and nodded, staring at the ground. He hadn't raised his voice, hadn't chastised her; but the disappointment in his tone was difficult to bear. A moment later, she felt his hand under her chin, gently tipping her face up to his. "Is there something else you wish to tell me? Some other detail you might have neglected to mention? Anything might be significant."

Rose gazed up at him. His blue eyes bored into her, willing her to speak. But how could she possibly tell him about the kiss and the Vortex Energy? It was just a dream, he'd said so. A mere dream couldn't be important. "No, Doctor. There's nothing else."

The Doctor regarded her for a moment longer, apparently unsatisfied. Rose feared that he would press her harder; but then he released her and turned away. "We...We'll find Jack," she said. "He can't have got far."

"No, he'll be long gone by now." The Doctor raked a hand through his long ringlets. "I can't believe I lost him. Stupid of me. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced Jack is caught up in this paradox. But how? What part does he play? We know he's a thief. Was he involved in the museum theft somehow? An accomplice, perhaps? Sent to distract the senior museum staff with his mad tales?"

He began to pace back and forth. "Is this theft even significant? That Chula disperser is a dangerous weapon; could destroy anything man-made. But destroy the planet? I suppose it could poke holes in the crust, but...there's some piece of this puzzle I'm missing." He stopped and clapped his hands across his forehead. "In any case, I should have gone back for Jack at once, or never left him unattended in the first place. I'm a fool. This is my fault, my fault entirely."

"How is it your fault?" asked Rose. "You didn't steal anything. You didn't put the Chula disperser out where anyone could get at it."

"No, but I...I could have--"

"It's always about you. You always think that..." Rose trailed off. Two teenage boys--one blonde, one ginger--were jumping up and waving at her across the crowd, clearly trying to catch her eye. She glanced away quickly, shielding her face with one hand. "Great. That's all we need."

"What do we need?"

"Oh--nothing. It's just those space punks from the coffee shop. They must have followed us down. I guess some people just can't take no for an answer--what? What is it?"

The Doctor was gaping wordlessly and pointing. She turned around. One of the boys was holding something up for them to see: small, blue, and glinting in the sun. Rose felt the Doctor's hand close around hers. "Come on!" he cried. "After them!"

Sprinting soon gave way to dodging and weaving their way through the crowd. The boys kept ahead of them, but never too far, always looking back to wave and wink at Rose. "Idiots." Rose scowled. "Probably they don't have any idea what they took."

"They took the most powerful weapon in that museum. I doubt they're completely incompetent. And they're clearly trying to lure us somewhere. We should be on our guard--it may be a trap."

"With you, it's always a trap," muttered Rose under her breath.

"Sorry?" said the Doctor.

"Er...never mind. Wait, where did they go?"

"There." The Doctor pointed. The boys were standing on a raised platform, about to enter what looked like a train car. "Aha! The monorail! Marvelous! Come on!" They dashed up the ramp, leapt over the turnstiles, and managed to jump onto the last car just as it was pulling away.

They found the boys at the far end of the car, embroiled in a heated argument. "She was looking at me. She was looking at me the whole time. She's hot for me, she loves me, I know I'm right!"

"Only 'cause she was trying to figure out how someone could be so ugly! Your face looks like Sontaran vomit and--"

"Hello boys."

They turned to Rose, broke into enormous grins, and said, "Hi!"

"Yeah," said Rose. "Yeah, hi. Now give it here."

They arranged their faces into expressions of innocence. "What do you mean? Give what?" asked the blonde.

"I'll give you something," said the ginger-haired boy, waggling his eyebrows. They sniggered.

The Doctor stepped forward. "My friend was referring to the item you acquired recently. The owner is quite anxious to have it back."

The boys looked at one another and shrugged. "Don't know what you're talking about, old guy."

The monorail changed direction; the Doctor lost his footing and jostled against the ginger-haired boy. "Are you sure?" said the Doctor, recovering his balance. "It would be blue, metallic, fits in the palm of your hand." The Doctor looked back and forth between the two of them; then lifted his arm. A hint of something shiny and blue was visible between his fingers. The boys maintained their pretense of innocence; but Rose thought the ginger-haired boy looked distinctly worried.

"So...I suppose _this_ wouldn't look familiar, then?" The Doctor casually opened his fingers.

The ginger-haired boy's eyes lit up. "Yeah! Yeah it does!" The blonde began to laugh. Startled, the Doctor looked at his hand.

He was holding a metallic blue yo-yo.

"That's mine!" cried the ginger-haired boy. Just then the car stopped, and the doors snapped open. "But you can keep it, Gramps." The boys dashed outside.

Fuming, Rose leapt out after them, the Doctor following. "Sure you don't want to come with us?" asked the blonde, winking at Rose. "I'm telling you, we're way more fun than your old man."

"He's not--"

"He is. Didn't he tell you?" The ginger boy grinned unpleasantly. "He's a Time Lord. Anyone could hear those two hearts beating a mile off. Time Lords are all a million years old, at least. Old and crusty. Ha, whatever turns you on!" They jogged off, laughing.

"Oooh! I'm an idiot," said Rose. "I should have said I'd go with them. I might have found something out; they're hiding something, I know it."

"I agree with you," said the Doctor, flicking the yo-yo down and letting it 'sleep.' "That they're hiding something, I mean. But...you shouldn't have defended me. They were right, you know. I am old." He sighed, jerking the yo-yo back up into his hand. "Very old indeed."

"I know," said Rose. "I know all about it. The other Doctor...he told me he was nine hundred."

"Oh _really_?" The Doctor smirked.

"What?"

"Nine hundred is equivalent to the human age of 39. Many Time Lords stay nine hundred for centuries. Come along Rose, let's go for a walk downtown, enjoy the beautiful day, do a bit of shopping, keep an eye on the boys unobtrusively, you get the idea?" A loud wolf whistle punctuated the end of his sentence. They looked up.

The boys were standing at the end of the next block. The ginger-haired boy held up something small, blue, shining, and egg-shaped.

"Another yo-yo?" asked Rose.

"Don't think so."

Rose glanced right for traffic and then started to run across the street; but the Doctor grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back onto the pavement. An instant later, an electric bus barreled silently by, passing inches from her nose. "If I've learned anything in my many centuries of travel through time and space, Rose, it's this: look _both_ ways before crossing a street. And," he added, with a quick glance at the sky, "often up and down."

"I've survived Daleks, cybermen, missiles," murmured Rose. "But getting hit by a bus coming from the wrong direction--"

"The _right_ direction, that is to say--the left. They drive on the other side here. Anyway, look." He pointed across the street. "Your little friends seem happy you weren't flattened." The boys had stayed put, and were renewing their efforts at getting her attention. "They clearly want us to follow them. We might as well take our time about it." He waved back at the boys; then proceeded to the crosswalk and, despite the absence of traffic, waited for the light to change. He glanced down at Rose and winked. "Seattleites frown on jay-walking."

They continued this low-speed chase, the boys always staying a block ahead of them, down Pike street towards the waterfront. But as they drew closer to the water, the number of people on the streets increased. Eventually, they saw that they were heading towards a noisy market crowded with people. "We might lose them, even if they do want us to follow them," said Rose. "I say we run for it."

"Agreed," said the Doctor. They sprinted ahead, catching the boys by surprise. Rose grabbed the blonde's arm and expertly twisted it behind his back, a neat trick she'd learned from her other Doctor. He'd had a funny name for the maneuvre: "Venusian aikido," or some such.

However, the ginger boy ran into the market. He might have escaped; but the Doctor, still clutching the yo-yo, flung it forwards at the boy. The string wrapped around his arm; the Doctor held the other end fast, and proceeded to reel him in. "So," said the Doctor, triumphantly, "we finally--"

There was a colossal, squishing thud. The Doctor saw stars. And then...nothing at all.


	8. Un Bel Di

**Chapter Eight: Un Bel Di**

"Stand back, stand back, just give him some air, will you? Get back!"

The Doctor opened his eyes. He saw a ring of faces, all staring at him. The closest one belonged to Rose. He realised he was lying on the ground. Also that he had a headache.

"He's awake, he'll be fine. Nothing to see here, move along." One by one, the curious faces disappeared.

The Doctor sat up. "What happened?"

"You got hit in the head," said Rose, still crouching next to him.

"Yes, I gathered that."

"With a fish."

He blinked at her. "With a _what_?"

"An Alaskan king salmon. This is the Pike Place Fish Market. Apparently they...er...they throw fish. People like to come and take pictures of them doing it."

The Doctor paused for a moment, trying to make sense of this. "They throw fish."

"Yeah."

"And people come and take pictures of this?"

"And movies."

"Do you know, Rose...humans are very, very odd creatures."

"You're just now discovering this, Doctor?"

"No." The Doctor stood, holding on to Rose for support, as his legs were still a bit wobbly. "But I suppose I need reminding of it from time to time."

"Anyway, I caught one of the boys, but I had to let him go when you...er..."

"...lost a piscine match," he said, wrinkling his nose. "That would explain the smell."

"Yeah. I tried to get it all off you, but..." Rose reached up and plucked a piece of fish flesh from his hair. "Look, let's get out of here."

"Agreed," he sighed. "No use standing here carping about it."

They left the market, descending the stairs down to the waterfront. The afternoon sun sparkled across the blue waters of the sound. Ferry boats chugged back and forth. The Doctor leaned on a railing, staring off at the nearby islands. "Doctor," said Rose. "I saw a phone box a couple blocks back. I've got to call my mum, she's going to be worried about me. Will you be all right?"

"Hmm? I'm all right," he murmured absently. His tone was flat; Rose hesitated to leave. But then he smiled. "Go on, call your mum. I'll be here." He waved her off; then returned his gaze to the sea, grimly reflecting upon mischance, fate, and his own fallibility.

"Doctor? Is that you?" said a voice.

The Doctor turned around. The voice belonged to a pretty woman with auburn hair. "Grace!"

He felt a bit giddy. Dr Grace Holloway had that effect on him--perhaps because she was the last person he had seen prior to regenerating into his current body. Thugs had shot him down in the streets of San Francisco; but they hadn't killed him. Mere bullets were no match for a Time Lord. But a wire catheter threaded blindly into his complicated cardiovascular system, tickling his exquisitely sensitive right atrial node--_that_ was his undoing.

"Doctor! I can't believe it's you! How long has it been?"

"I don't know," murmured the Doctor, gazing into her eyes. "A month or two?"

He had been disorientated and amnestic after his regeneration; he latched onto the only familiar face he could find. She had helped him, unwillingly at first. In the end, she sacrificed her life to save him.

Grace laughed. "You're so funny. It was New Year's 2000, so wow, that makes it almost seven years."

"Not for me," said the Doctor, reaching forward and cupping the side of her face in his palm. "It's been, quite literally, seven weeks. I'm a time traveller, remember?"

"Oh my God," said Grace, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. A moment or two later, she relaxed her embrace and sniffed. "What's that smell?"

"Er..." said the Doctor, stepping back. "It's rather a long story, and--"

"Grace? Grace? Grace! We've been looking all over for you." A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared behind Grace. At his side were two small children, a girl and a boy.

"Doctor," said Grace, "This is my husband, Todd. And my children, Max and Catherine."

In the back of his mind, the Doctor felt a door click shut. Now that he was part of Grace's linear timeline, he couldn't loop back upon it. True, he often bent the laws of Time; occasionally even threw them to the floor and danced upon them. He had broken one such law at Earth's second millennium: he had looped back in time, directly crossing the TARDIS's timeline. In addition to saving the Earth, this had had another happy effect: because she died on the TARDIS, in the midst of a time loop, the power of the Time Vortex transformed Grace's death to life.

Seeing her with her family, the Doctor knew he couldn't do what he had often considered doing--going back and offering once again to show Grace the stars. She'd refused his first offer. Not surprising, really; people tended to find their own deaths a bit unsettling. It had been the wrong time to ask. Now, as he gazed down at the little girl who looked so much like her mother, he knew it would never be.

Grace's husband held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Doctor--?"

The Doctor shook it. "Er...Smith. John Smith."

"He's an old friend," said Grace brightly. "He's in town for the conference, too."

"Conference?" asked the Doctor.

"American College of Cardiology," Grace hissed.

"Oh! Oh, yes...that conference."

The children began pulling at their father's hands. "I'll let you two catch up," Todd said, as he followed them down the waterfront. "The kids want some ice cream." The Doctor gazed after them.

"You could have come with me," said Grace, after a pause. Before he could reply, she added, "It's okay. Everything's worked out for the best. Oh! I just remembered. You're an opera buff, aren't you? Todd can't stand it." She rummaged in her handbag, then produced a pair of tickets. "Der Rosenkavalier. Tonight."

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Oh yes! I'd love to--"

"Great!" she said, pressing the tickets into his hand. "I can't use them, I have to give a presentation tonight—part of the conference."

"Oh. I...I see. Thank you, Grace. I'm much obliged."

"A gift. For old time's sake." She leaned forwards, as if to kiss him; then drew away again. "Doctor, I hate to say this, but...I think you better change before the opera. You're a little--"

The Doctor laughed. "Aromatic? Yes, I know! Thank you again for the tickets, Grace."

"You're welcome. I...I should go." Grace turned and walked away, her hair shining in the afternoon sun. Presently, she caught up with her family, and picked up her son, carrying him on her hip. They continued walking down the waterfront; the Doctor watched them go. Eventually he couldn't see them anymore.

"Yeah, it is a fine day. But what's that about smoke rising from the sea? I don't see any," said Rose, appearing next to him, leaning over the railing.

The Doctor smiled. He must have been absent-mindedly singing "Un bel di," but Rose heard it in English. "It's nothing—just a song. Puccini. How's your mum?"

"Mental," said Rose, with feeling. "She and Pete are flying out. He chartered a jet. They'll be here late tonight."

A niggling scruple had been biting at his conscience almost since they'd arrived in Seattle. His course of action lay clear before him, though he hadn't wanted to look at it. He held up the tickets. "Marvelous! We can see them after the opera."

"You wouldn't say 'marvelous' if you..." She gaped first at the tickets; then at him in disbelief. "_Opera_?"

He smiled at her, sadly. He knew full well that by the end of the evening, she'd hate him.


End file.
